


Lost Tradition

by Alley_of_the_Labyrinth



Category: Hannibal (TV)
Genre: Christmas, F/M, Gen, Lithuanian culture, No Cannibalism, This is out of character, may not be continued, mishcha is honored
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-07-20
Updated: 2018-07-20
Packaged: 2019-06-13 14:08:58
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,946
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15366339
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Alley_of_the_Labyrinth/pseuds/Alley_of_the_Labyrinth
Summary: I wanted to write a sweet Hannibal tale, based on a Lithuanian Winter Tradition. Yes, it focuses on OC's but the focus is mainly on Hannibal as a man who holds his heritage in high regard. Incomplete for the moment. I'm not sure where I want to go with it. Critiques are welcome and needed. I don't plan for any romance other than a reflection on a "past" relationship





	Lost Tradition

The Lost Tradition

The man eats alone, for many years on this one night. It was this night that he kept close to his heart, even though he had lost faith in the God that allowed his people to keep their harvest feast. He tells his colleagues that he is busy this holiday, but he goes nowhere. He makes the feast for just a little more than one. Seats the table for many though. And as he sits at the head of the table, the man does his best not to weep.

His makeshift of the many lost years is disturbing though as there is a knock on his door just before the sun has set. He looks out the window panel and sees three people, two of which he knows. One of which looks eerily familiar, he has no true memory of the person standing with his colleagues.

"Good Evening" he greets as he opens his door.

"Dr. Lector" "Hannibal." He is greeted by the male and female guarding their third companion.

"Will, Alana what has brought you to my home this night?" he asks allowing them entrance.

"Dr. Lector, let me introduce, Anne-Lisa Wirkus, she asked to meet you this night. Even though it is the Holiday." Said Alana to him stepping a little more out of the line of sight for the two strangers to meet each other.  
"Oh, Ms. Wirkus. Why are you not with family this night."

"I have no one to spend it with." She replies softly, her gaze steady looking towards him.

"I see, please come in. I was just preparing my Kucios."

"Am I disturbing your family night, Doctor?"

"No, I observe the holiday even without my family."

"That is nice to know."

Will and Alana stood watching them confused. Like the two people had begun to speak another language before them.

"Excuse us, Doctor Lector, Ms. Anne here, wanted to inform you of something, did you know an Onna 20 some years ago."

"I have known a woman by that name," he replies and sees the young woman's shoulders relax. "Onna Wirkus is my mother. She had a brief relationship with a young artist before being married to a man back in Lithuania before they moved to the states. She became pregnant before the wedding but did not notice the signs until afterword, almost considering the child lucky to be born, days before the perceived due date." Anne went on explaining. She wrote a letter that she gave to me before she passed explain who my real father was. That she wanted me to know because I possessed his God-given gifts."

Hannibal took a step back, finally taking in the woman before him. He now knew where he remembered the hair and eye color, her structure; all came from his brief time with the one woman he could find himself in love with. Her poetry compared nothing to his drawings. Her words were life as he tried to capture life and death through art.

"She expressed that you were a mere student of medicine. But your hands were made for much more, she called you His Reflection."

"Are you saying then Ms. Wirkus, you are my daughter?"

"Aye, sir." She bows her head slightly looking away from him, nervous now of what would come out of this. "I understand if…"

"Would you like to have a traditional family meal?" he asks them all, trying to hold back the emotions that were raising inside of himself.

"That would be an honor, sir." She whispers looking at him in surprise. Alana follows her to the dining room. Will waits for a few moments, thinking to himself. He could see a little bit of Hannibal in the woman, but very little. He looked at the doctor seeing very little emotion come forth from the gentleman. Not until he looked towards the man's eyes. The cold emotional stare was not there, in fact, Will would swear later when he took lunch with Beverly Katz, that he thought he saw tears in the man's eyes.

"Will, won't you join us?"

"You consider Alana and I family?" he asks cautiously, "I wish Abigail was with us, it would make it feel more full."

"I wish she was here as well, the food is starting to get cold," he enters to see the women are waiting for him, standing at two seats, living a good gap between them. "Anne, please sit closer, I'm sorry I don't have a lot to offer, each dish serves maybe enough for 3. I have made Kucios for one, I tend to prepare more for dinner parties."

"I am sorry to have come so late, sir."

"Hannibal please Anne."

"You are my father, I will not call you by your first name," she states boldly.

"I see" Will catches the man smile again, he ponders them quietly.

"Thank you,"

"Your mother is she still alive?"

"She passed last year." Anne expresses a little sorrow lases her voice.

"Then she joins us along with my own family in spirit."

"Thank you, father."

Alana and Will wait as Hannibal, as head of the house explains the tradition to them. They are served before Anne is, so they take very little leaving the father and daughter with a better tasting of the twelve courses made for two. At the end of the meal, Alana and Will prepare to leave.

Anne shuffles a little debating on what to do. Before Hannibal opens his arms to her, she smiles and goes to hug him, smelling the expensive perfume and something else that hides beneath it. "Teti" she whispers the word between them. "I have missed you so much."

"Mano Dukra" he replies. "Thank you for sharing in the meal."

"Will I see you tomorrow?"

"I will be here."

"Teti?"

"Hmm?" she pulls away from his hold, smiling brightly.

"You won't be alone anymore, I promise." He does not know what she means by this as she grabs her coat and leaves with the other doctor and the professor. He leaves what is left of the meal out, the last difference of his tradition. He looks at the room and the dish that was set for his dead sister, instead that is where his newly found daughter sat with his permission. The silverware is sitting on a fresh napkin, the chair set slight away from the table. She did not know who the place was set for but she left it prepared for the spirit. He shuts the light off and leaves the first floor. He looks out the window of his bedroom, watching the clouding sky.

"Merry Christmas, Mischa." He sighs before heading to bed. The man rarely did sleep well. Most of his nights have taken a toll to his preferred hobby. But tonight he sleeps a peaceful dreamless sleep. And thus the next morning he is up a little later than his norm even on a day such as today. Making a cup of fresh coffee for himself before he gets to clean the table of the mess that was left. He turned on his record player letting the sound of music drift. He started to wonder if last night had been a dream through his loneliness. That was until the doorbell rang. He went to answer it, finding the woman he meant last night holding a small box and a suitcase that sat beside her as she waited.

"Anne," he said smiling down at her.

"Teti" she replied. "This is for you." She offered the wrapped box to him.

"Thank you," he paused it was a long time since he been with Onna, his heart had changed since he ran from her. He had been a father briefly to Abigail, but to his own child who experienced natural death but not heart-wrenching murder, he would be a better man, even if it meant hiding his desires. "Anne what brings the suitcase?" he asks as she carries it in.

She blushes crossing her arms in front of her, as he leads her into the entertaining room.

"I have nowhere to stay other than the hotel, I checked into a few days ago. I am sorry if I am coming off as rude, Sir." She reverted to be polite, Hannibal noted. "I want to live with you, I want to be your family, when I lost my mother, I lost what I considered family and I soon as I learned of you..." He touches her cheek softly; she stops with a stutter.

"Anne that would be a beautiful gift." He replies. "Is that the only bag?" he gestures to the suitcase in the hall.

"What I brought for the trip, in case this didn't go well." She replies honestly with a slight blush. "Well, not everything there is one other bag at the hotel." She laughs softly looking away.

"Smart child."

They sit for a bit, the box sitting on the side table.

"I can take the bag to a room, if you want to open that in private, it's something she left me, in honor of you."

"No wait, I want to open this with you here, then we can look for a good room together."

"Of course, Teti" she blushed softly. He removes the ribbon and then the lid. Inside he sees something somewhat large, it fits in the box touching two of the edges and most of the base. The doctor lifts out the object and the box falls to the ground. In his hands, sits a stone-carved human heart.

" _I have met no man, who warmed my heart as much as you have, and when then you left me. The frozen heart has turned to stone because it belongs to one man and one child."_

"She has this way with words, I have studied many languages and yet she strikes me at my core."

"Yeah, she wrote a lot." Anne picks up the fallen parchment that fell with the box. "This is her letter to you, she wrote me one as well. It was how I started looking for you."

"Let me take you to your room, you can unpack while I do as you request of me." He stands to offer his arm to her. Anne slips her own through his and grabs her bag while they head towards the stairs.

Hannibal returns to the room to grab the letter before going to his office. His heart aches greatly before he even sits at his desk, before even opening the folded piece of paper.

Dearest Love,

We met in the church, I was lost and so were you. At least that was how I saw it. You were examining the great gifts painters had left, judging them for how did God deserve the beauty a human hand to create. When you left me that night, I knew I did not crack the shell, even though you have melted my own. She grows inside me, barely gives a fuss over many things. She makes me wish I have gotten to know you more. I have been creating something, for you. But I do not know if you will ever receive it. My heart is your Hannibal. It will always be yours even if you forget me. Oh, she's actually fussing right now, guess this letter will have to shorten then I wanted it to be. I may not know who you are with only a night and a day to have met and be with you. But I know I will never meet another man that gave me this gift to continue loving the gift he may never meet."


End file.
